


Morningrise

by Sideral (dasing)



Series: It's alright, We're altogether [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bedside Vigil, Fluff, Gen, Hospital Settings, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Lineages, Kidnapping, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Non-Consensual Drug Use, One Shot, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective Qui-Gon Jinn, This is pure fluff, big on comfort, no beta reading w die like men, with some sprinkles of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25327675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dasing/pseuds/Sideral
Summary: A diplomatic mission on Labaris took an unexpected turn after the local terrorist faction kidnapped Padawan Obi-wan Kenobi. With the arrest of the culprits, Qui-gon Jinn deals with the aftermath.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: It's alright, We're altogether [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889590
Comments: 14
Kudos: 131





	Morningrise

**Author's Note:**

> (Obi-wan is currently 15 years old in this fic)

Qui-gon walked through narrow, poor-lit corridors, his steps echoing sharply in the allacrete floor of the old apartment complex. Passing by the law-enforcers, Qui-gon vaguely nodded to Chief-Inspector Siraz, as she scrutinized the rest of the team wrapping up the operation. He strode by the apprehended terrorists been escorted out without a second glance.

Qui-gon had a clear destination in mind. Nothing else could be clearer than the beacon in his head, shining constantly, if not a little muted; a small brush of comfort for the first time in hours. And yet, Qui-gon's body still thrummed with adrenaline and unreleased fears since Obi-wan's Force signature had gone silent last night.

Minutes ago, Qui-gon felt when the familiar presence blazed once again in the Force, but he was rather occupied - fighting with terrorists goons and leading the security agents into the Insurgence hideout. Qui-gon couldn't do more than briefly check for danger and send forward a brush of reassurance through the bond. He had to deliberately turn his attention to the Here and Now.

Qui-gon had no such distractions at the moment- or at least nothing that he deemed urgent. Qui-gon was a Jedi Master, and as the ancient saying goes- he had come to serve. It was his duty to help others in the best way he could. And so he did; the terrorist cell was stopped and Obi-wan's kidnappers were apprehended. But now his duty lay entirely with his padawan.

He stepped around an officer, muttering a quick apology, fast gait towards the back exit.

Glancing around the streets, Qui-gon observed the gathering of sentients: few passersby attracted by the novelty of the arrest, the paramedics bringing the injured into their care, the officers leading their prisoners out.

He listened, once again, the melodic sound coming from the water fountain, dozen of meters of the terrorist facilities-hiding at plain sight among the communal space.

It was there, leaning into the rocky wall of the fount, that he found Obi-wan.

A few hurried steps later and he was standing in front of the boy. "Padawan." He greeted softly.

When seconds passed and no replay was forthcoming, Qui-gon moved closer, crouching down to peer at the boy's face. He extended a hand to touch a hunched shoulder, and stopped quickly as the boy flinched at the motion.

"Obi-wan ?" He asked slowly, infusing calm into his tone.

Obi-wan lifted his head then, letting a split lip and a gash in his temple at his full view. Qui-gon exhaled, examining warily the dried blood marring the padawan's face.

"...Master" the boy slurred. He scrunched his brows together, his eyes trying and failing to focus.

"Yes, padawan. Are you badly hurt?'' He glanced around for a medic close by. "Where are the healers?" Why hadn't they approached his padawan yet? The boy was clearly injured.

"I've... sent them away," Obi-wan said, with a small nod.

"Who?"

"The healer… the… The Insurgents too." Obi-wan's wavering smile displayed blood-stained teeth for a tiny second.

_What had happened-_

Qui-gon scanned his padawan with his eyes, noticing the bruises in his face, the dusted robes. His eyes held a strange, wild glint. He still had his 'saber in his belt.

Qui-gon gingerly touched the side of his padawan's head with his fingertips, frowning at the deep cut at the boy's temple. Obi-wan only sighed and leaned into the touch slightly.

"Any more pressing injuries?" He said with a forcibly calm voice, as he started to reassess the boy's state with the Force. Obi-wan's signature still blazed in their bond, and now Qui-gon understood why. His shields were down, his mind almost completely unprotected.

''Are you concussed?" Qui-gon was almost sure that was the case. He erected a shield around Obi-wan's mind, more in the case to protect his padawan's privacy than from a possible threat.

"..No" Obi-wan said slowly, but his tone was unsure. His frame was trembling like a sapling leaf. Qui-gon grunted in response, eyes darting around for a medic.

"They...They drugged me." Obi-wan spat with distaste.

Qui-gon felt icy alarm spread inside his entire being with this new piece of knowledge. He swallowed it down and asked, needing to be sure.

"The Insurgents?"

Obi-wan nodded again, burying his head even more into Qui-gon's palm. " _Silly name_."

That put a begrudging smile into Qui-gon's face, very briefly. Voice steady, he said, "You had made that particular opinion known ever since we reached Labaris, padawan."

"I was right," Obi-wan mumbled, eyes drifting close.

Spotting a healer- not too far, treating an officer in the exit he came from- Qui-gon gently scooped the sagging padawan into his arms, whispering placating nothings to pained moans in his way back.

****

After leaving Obi-wan to be treated, contacting Inspector Siraz and answering a call from the Head-Minister Allani - the latter which he reassured her the culprits of the terrorist attack were detained, and gracefully accepted her well-wishes on behalf of his Padawan - he spent the remaining hours perfecting his patience in the waiting room of the MedCenter.

A Doctor gave him a full report on Obi-wan's health a few hours later: Obi-wan had a minor concussion, with no internal bleeding, two hairline fractures on his ribs, multiple cuts and bruises. And more worryingly, Obi-wan had been injected with a new hit drug, Moonthrill: a blend of several narcotics, including Glitterstim. The healer assured him the withdrawal symptoms were already stabilized, and the drug effects appeared to not linger so strongly as compared to other human patients.

Likely because of the Jedi enhanced physiology, they said with admiration. Qui-gon truly hoped so. He thanked them and entered the patient’s room, making no sound.

Qui-gon watched his padawan, his chest moving slightly in the peaceful cadence of sleep, and felt something tightly coiled inside him starting to unravel.

Obi-wan had been kidnapped last night, and was held by the Insurgence for almost 14 standard hours. All that time, Qui-gon buried his stoked fears for his padawan, turning his focus to find a solution, track his location, help to coordinate the assault plan with the officers.

Regardless, when morning came and Obi-wan's presence burned bright on the other side of their bond once again, he had somehow convinced himself that his apprentice would be found perfectly well, perhaps with only a scratch. The sleeping form connected with medical machinery in front of him showed how foolish he was.

Sighing deeply, Qui-gon gathered his thoughts, letting them turn into a practiced emptiness, and sank gently into the streams of the Force. He flowed there for an infinite moment, enjoying the feeling of higher awareness, the pure sense of _Life_.

Then he let go of the deeper connection, bringing back part of his focus to the room around him, to his apprentice. He sensed the quiet currents around his padawan; he was dreaming, undisturbed.

Qui-gon added his efforts to this tranquil current: wrapping the boy with serenity, he guarded his dreams.

****

  
It was hours into the night, the stars in the sky barely visible through the small window, when Qui-gon emerged from his meditative vigil.  
Qui-gon breathed in the stale air of chemicals and cleanliness, and shifted out of his position in his uncomfortable chair. He was getting too old to this sort of thing.  
Looking at the Chrono at the far wall, he realized 10 hours had passed ever since he brought Obi-wan to the Medcenter; an entire day in Labaris.

He will need to leave soon, to get food and proper rest, he mused. Perhaps he should leave now, while Obi-wan sleeps, and go back a few hours later. The healers expected the boy to sleep for a few more hours, then after a reevaluation and changing the bacta bandage, he shall be cleared to leave.

After that, Qui-gon expected to go talk with the First-Minister. He hopes that, with the arrests, they can finally sign the treaty formalizing the changing of the regime without any more turmoil.

Qui-gon leaned back in his chair, inhaling deeply. Tiredness was weighing on him, reaching his very bones. Qui-gon gradually breathed out; his eyes opened to catch a movement in the bed.

Obi-wan seemed to be in a struggle to wake completely: head-turning, twitching limbs tangling themselves into the thin medical blanket.

"Easy, padawan." Qui-gon put a hand on the apprentice's shoulders, a gesture meant to comfort and stop his erratic moves.

Obi-wan frowned, still caught in a state of half-consciousness, but eventually, his limbs stilled and his eyes opened.

"Master" his voice was rough by sleep and disuse. Qui-gon handed him a cup of water from the side table. He maintained a hold of the cup, eyeing the way Obi-wan's hands were wavering. "Small sips."

Afterward, Obi-wan shifted in his cot, trying to sit up, using his elbows as support. Qui-gon sent an arm to stop him, but the boy aborted his try and clutched his middle, hissing in pain.

"Easy. don't hurt yourself. Here, I'll help you." Qui-gon gently dragged his padawan upwards, setting him to lean into the board. He moved a pillow to give Obi-wan a more pleasant support. "How are you feeling?’’ Qui-gon asked.

Obi-wan looked at him, cocking an eyebrow up, then frowned as he looked around the darkened room, assessing the medical equipment. "Like a bantha trumped over my head," was his sullen evaluation.

Qui-gon snorted, happy to witness that his padawan's sense of humor appeared to remain intact.

"You have a concussion. And you've been drugged, I was promptly told." _By you and the healers._

"Drugged?" Obi-wan repeated, eyes wide.

"Yes. You don't remember?" A faulty memory is not uncommon after head injuries, but considering the drug… _This could be concerning._

"I- I do, but not everything," Obi-wan confessed, bowing his head slightly.

"That's alright, padawan. There's no need to worry about that now," Qui-gon said to reassure him, gently setting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Focus on healing and getting rest."

"Yes, Master," Obi-wan replied, almost subdued. _Possibly his exhaustion._ " I, ah, the part I remember most...Was I yelling at the Insurgents?" A soft blush was spreading at Obi-wan's cheeks.

Qui-gon swallowed. "I can't answer that, Obi-wan. I wasn't with you while you were... Captive." He had to deliberately tone down the sharp edge in his voice.

But something in his expression must have been enough to show his disturbance, because Obi-wan hushed to explain, "Oh, no! I wasn't meaning- I wasn't screaming in pain, I - they must have drugged me as soon they threw me in that room, because I don't remember- "

His mouth closed suddenly, but Qui-gon's imagination could easily supply what had followed. Obi-wan had beating marks all over his chest and head. He was beaten, even while unconscious. Qui-gon held at bay, with the discipline of decades, all the fires of his righteous anger burning inside him.

 _Breathe_. He reminded himself again that he did all he could- the perpetrators were already in custody.

All he had to focus on was to help Obi-wan to heal. _Here and now_.

While he placated his inner turmoils, Obi-wan began talking again, apparently frantic to put his Master at ease. "I only remember waking up and feeling the Force was...muddled. I could sense my lightsaber though. Somewhere else, but not exactly far… So I figured it was with an Insurgent, probably with the leader. Then I, " Obi-wan swallowed, looking down in embarrassment, "I screamed. Called them names. Until the guards came."

"You got their attention by yelling curses at them," Qui-gon said, neutrally. Deep down, part of him was impressed with the turns on this tale. _By the Force… Obi-wan-_

"It was rather effective-they came quicker than I thought," Obi-wan announced, his embarrassment quickly replaced by his usual mischievousness.

Qui-gon shook his head, a small smile curling in his face. He suddenly felt overcame as relief once again poured into his core, a rainfall over forest fire. Every time his padawan left a dangerous situation with his growing _Inner Light_ still clear and strong, he would feel surprised by the dept of relief in his heart. And _Pride_.

Accepting the gift for that it was -and the lesson- Qui-gon offered a touch of levity. Another way to comfort.

"I cannot say I'm surprised by the length of your powers of annoyance, padawan." He shook his head slowly, this time as the long-suffering master.

"Master!" Obi-wan exclaimed, appalled. The picture of the exasperated padawan.

The smiles they sent one another were warm, and held their honest feelings, just as their shared bond in the Force.

Obi-wan's eyes started to drop then, so Qui-gon moved his arm to gently lower his body back to the mattress. The boy barely protested, but still stubbornly clung to an awake state. He asked, between yawns "so I rescued myself, then?"

"You had the foresight to free yourself the same moment the guards and I raided the facility," Qui-gon said diplomatically.

"And you did very well, considering you were still under the influence of a unknow drug, padawan," He added, allowing his honest pride to leak in his voice.

Obi-wan smiled genuinely, just as his eyelids dropped at once - then fluttered open, by the boy's sheer will alone. _There was no need for that, padawan._

" _Even_ " Qui-gon commented, "if you sounded like you had far too many Weequay Brew." his hands settled the blanket over Obi-wan's small shoulders.

"What's that?" Obi-wan inquired, his voice displaying pure curiosity in the sleepiest tone Qui-gon ever heard from him. Qui-gon retained the scene in his heart.

"Nothing of your immediate interest, padawan. For now, just rest." His words were laced with warmth and comfort; soon Obi-wan relaxed, succumbing to sleep once again.

Qui-gon sighed and got up, stretching his limbs. He truly was exhausted. And yet, he thought, these last minutes had revigorated him more than he thought possible. Obi-wan kept surprising him in every stance, at every mission they took together.

He splayed his hands over the sheets, carefully tucking in his sleeping apprentice. That done, Qui-gon walked towards the small window, closing the drapes completely, but not before he caught a glimpse of the dawning sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Any feedback is more than welcomed!!


End file.
